Disposition
by Agilleo
Summary: Every tragedy lies opportunity; every opportunity, a tragedy. The Universe brings another purpose to his life, and also hers. One thing is for certain: the Wheel of Fortune will carry on turning, delivering a story unlike any other.
1. Teal

**1:Teal**

Keisuke Hiraga was a modest man. With wavy dark brown hair and thin black glasses, his unobtrusive appearance only served to amplify his normalcy. Walking down the main street on a sunny day wearing a simple button down shirt and faded jeans, his pace was a steady yet comfortable stride. He was home for the first time in a month and he knew his first destination.

His eyes wandered towards the billboards and the advertisements surrounding him, smiling as his eyes fell on a particular one. The photo was of a built man with bleach blonde hair riding a horse, holding a can of "Quelorie Magic". He remembered the struggles of shoot and couldn't stop himself from letting out a chuckle. The man was self-conscious and took a lot of coaxing before Keisuke was able to capture the confident look that the billboard sported.

He was a photographer, a damn good one at that, although no one would hear that from him.

"It hasn't always been this way," Keisuke would always say. It was true. The early stages of his career had been a rocky path with his indecision between medicine and his art. Failing his college entry exam and losing a good friend of his in the space of a month, Keisuke Hiraga, recent graduate of Gekkoukan High, was thrown in a pit of depression, a pit he knew he couldn't - and wouldn't - be climbing out any time soon.

Perhaps it was fate, pure instinct, luck, or even a higher power that pushed him to get up one morning to Paulownia Mall. His feet brought him towards an antique shop, the sign reading "Shinshoudo Antiques" in dark bold letters. Immediately, his eyes were drawn towards an object gleaming against the light. Standing solemnly on a display case was an old film camera, beaten and bruised, paint rubbing off across the corners revealing a brass finish. Whatever compelled him to purchase it that one morning may forever be a mystery. He wasn't even sure it was even working! Yet, he bought it, emptying what was left of his greatly diminished funds. He heard a mouthful from his father later that day.

Although he had won a scholarship back in his last year of high school, holding a camera felt unfamiliar after so long. His lapses of depression reverted his habits and his connection. Many rolls went to waste, some underexposed, some blurry or missing the target. Each one was costly, prompting him to pick up a part-time job at a local diner.

There were days where he would be inside his makeshift dark room developing his rolls, messing around, experimenting different "do-it-yourself" chemical compositions. Some days were spent out on the streets, talking with strangers and taking portraits, the camera becoming an excellent conversation starter and his calm demeanor relaxing them. Many weekends were spent camping alone, the camera and the tent serving as his only companions while photographing the scenery around.

He had a small following in social media, some features here and there in magazines or newspapers and a few clients whom he charged minimally. It was a satisfying feeling in his stomach to be in control. He was a forging his own path, slowly digging himself out. With each shot he took, he felt something click inside him, and it was as if each frame was filling a hole in his heart that he had given up on fixing.

Perhaps he was obsessed or misguided like his father had voiced multiple times but he couldn't stop.

"Use your head for once and stop wasting your time with the shit you did in high school!" his father would always say.

Yet, it was new. It was an experience learning, not the same old activity from high school. It was just him, the camera and the subject. It was the darkroom, the clips, the trays brimming with chemicals and the stench of instant coffee giving him control. It wasn't like when he was in high school. It was freedom.

For the first time since that fateful March three years ago, he truly felt happy.

Happy.

He would always joked that Minato was the one who sent the camera, the one who pushed his shell of a body out of bed that one particular morning.

Fortune favours the bold became quite an accurate statement when he had received an invitation to a photo contest, the contestants being prolific photographers all over Japan. Who was he, an amateur photographer whom failed to get into college, to be around these people, or even invited?

He hadn't felt like more like a sore thumb in his entire life than at the exhibit. Delicately framed photographs lined the exhibit, many bled with passion. Intricate, raw, gratifying, each photograph showing the photographer's emotions. Then there was his. What was he, a photographer clawing himself out of depression, doing there?

Unsurprisingly, he had won no awards, nor a glance or a second thought from the more prominent photographers.

It came to a shock when he received a call a month later.

" _Keisuke Hiragi?" a deep voice asked through the phone, although it sounded more like a grunt._

" _You are talking to him, yes. How can I help you?" he replied, curious as to who called him._

" _Yo, the name's Kanji Tatsumi," the man introduced himself, "y'were in one that one contest ain't ya? Saw some of yer film stuff and we're calling ya for some client work and no, I'm not just some shitty kid prank callin'."_

 _He nodded in approval to no one in particular before grabbing a grey notebook from his desk and opening it to certain page, raising his eyebrow at the last part of the sentence. It had been sometime since his last client work but this was the first time conversation flowed this way._

" _Sure! May I have the details for the shoot?" he asked._

"' _Ight, hold up," he heart some shuffling at the other end and some yelling before he continued, "we want you to photograph a few dresses I got set up for us this weekend. Lunch and all that is covered. Just got' show up and do your thing."_

 _He nodded once again before scribbling a few words down. "Sure, would I need to supply a model?" he inquired, mentally going through a list of people he had contacted for model work before._

" _Nah, got ya covered in that one," the man replied quickly before explaining the details of the work. Keisuke listened intently to each details, mentally planning what he was going to bring from his sparse equipment he had salvaged from the measly salary he got from the local diner._

 _When Keisuke arrived at the location, the first thought that passed him was intimidation. A man at least a foot and a half taller than him stood with his arms crossed. Legs apart, his face had a scowl on as the man walked towards him. Slicked back bleached blonde hair and leather jacket tight against his muscular body, the man screamed intimidation._

" _Hiraga?" the man grunted out._

 _Keisuke could only nod before the man's arms loosened and the scowl turned into a grin._

" _Kanji Tatsumi at yer service," he introduced himself and grabbed Keisuke's hand, "thought you were one of 'em stupid obsessive fans again."_

" _Obsessive fans…?" Keisuke wondered while cringing inwardly at the force of Kanji's grip. Was this man really someone that was looking for a photographer for dresses? What kinds of dresses were they even? Gothic biker punk lingerie?_

" _Er… Yeah, some idiot leaked the location of Risette's photoshoot."_

 _At the mention of the name, Keisuke stiffened._

 _Risette? The Risette?! His eyes went wide as he realized whom he was about to photograph. Rise Kujikawa, the pop idol? There must have been a mistake. He didn't sign up for this!_

" _Wait, hold up," he interrupted and let go of Kanji's hand, "who am I photographing again?"_

 _Kanji raised an eyebrow at the question._

" _Risette of course," he said without missing a beat. "Didn't I tell you at the phone call?"_

 _Keisuke shook his head and Kanji only shrugged._

" _Eh? Must've forgot. She saw yer shit and things at the exhibit place and instantly fell in love with your stuff. Won't stop naggin' me for you," he stated while shrugging._

" _What?!"_

Ever since that fateful day, he had quit his part-time job at the diner to become Risette's personal photographer. He had travelled all over Japan as her personal photographer as well, amassing a portfolio of portraits and scenery while purchasing more appropriate gear for his occupation. In addition, he had achieved self-sufficiency, finally moving out and away from his father.

Keisuke laughed inwardly at the memory before stopping at the familiar doors of Hakagure Ramen. After a long month of touring, he was finally home and his first stop was a classic staple for anyone who lived in Port Island. Hakagure Ramen, the best ramen in all of Japan, at least to him. Many afternoons were spent here just wasting away his youth and it felt a bit nostalgic walking in without any plans or responsibilities that needed his attention. He looked around, seeing that nothing had changed in the scenery. Tables lined the back wall while bar stools surrounded the open kitchen counter near the entrance, the scent of freshly cooked meat and noodles wafting out into the busy streets.

He was finally back.

"Photographer-san! How y'been? The usual?" the man behind the counter beamed and Keisuke threw a thumbs up before taking a seat at one of the counter stools.

"Never been better," Keisuke answered in response before a hot bowl of ramen was placed in front of him in which he promptly dug into, the aroma captivating him. Only then did he realize how empty his stomach was.

"Got a few good shots for me?" the man joked as he readied another bowl for another customer that walked in.

Keisuke paused his ravenous pace and grabbed his bag, pulling out a considerably sized envelope. "I sure do! Personally signed for your daughter as well!" Keisuke exclaimed while handing the envelope to the man. It had been a regular occurrence since he started photographing for Risette to bring back a photo or two for the Hagakure chef. After all, the man was one of the only people that was there during his depression. "Told Kujikawa-san and Tatsumi-san about your shop," he explained, "they said they stopped here once and loved it actually."

The man couldn't help but gape. A pop idol and a famous designer in his restaurant? Nonsense! When was that? "Thank you Hiraga-san." He bowed in gratitude before putting the envelope under the counter. "Consider this in the house!"

Keisuke beamed before refusing and went back to his hot bowl of ramen. "Don't worry about it. It was my pleasure Ichiraku-san."

Night fell and Keisuke was still outside. Perhaps he was restless or lost but a feeling inside the pit of his stomach kept him outside of his one room apartment. Each step he took echoed throughout the night, leading to nowhere. This was a regular occurrence for him. Perhaps he was searching for something in the night, or trying to recreate his feelings during high school when he was out late. He really wasn't sure if it was even any of that. Meaning of life? His failure of getting into medicine school haunting him? Whatever it was, it kept him out.

"I really gotta get healthier than this." A silent sigh escaped his lips.

The peace of the night was disturbed when his phone started ringing suddenly. He raised his eyebrow at the call.

"Hello, Hiragi speaking."

"Yo, Hiragi-san. Kanji 'ere," the man behind the phone spoke, "sorry to bother you since you just got back home but there's this post tour per—"

 **BAM!**

"Gah…!"

In an instant, air escaped his lungs, lurching him backwards. He let out a gasp and stepped back, ultimately losing his balance. Before he knew it, he was facing the light-polluted sky of Port Island in a dizzying sprawl. Were those stars that he was seeing…?

He let out a cough before slowly getting up from the ground, a hand nursing his chest. Vitals? Check. Blood anywhere? Negative. A pain in his chest though but he would live. He chuckled lightly at his misfortune, a lingering numbness at the back of his head.

"That should teach me how to look where I'm going," he lightly joked and flashed a sheepish smile on his face.

"Ow...," a soft voice whimpered across him.

Keisuke suddenly remembered the person he collided with.

"Shit!"

Fighting back small spasms of pain, he grabbed the concrete and lifted himself off the sidewalk towards a woman laying a few feet away from him. Quickly lifting the woman's head up, his other hand reached to her wrist for any sign, fear settling down when he felt a steady pulse. She was safe. He exhaled a deep breath, not knowing he took one in the first place.

"Uhm… I'm alive," her soft voice penetrated the silence.

Green.

 _No, teal. Definitely teal._

He caught himself staring, a sense of embarrassment exponentially rising from their close proximity.

"I-I uh… uh... m-ma'am," he stammered out.

Only then did he realize the position they were in. Bolting up, he felt the temperature of his cheeks rise and he was sure the lady could tell. A small part of him was thankful she wasn't hurt. Although that didn't stop him from kicking himself mentally.

"I'm sorry ma'am!" He placed both hands on his side and bowed deeply. "I wasn't paying attention and I will be willing bear the consequence!" Apologizing profusely, Keisuke kept his head low.

When he looked up, he saw a slender lady in front of him only a few centimeters shorter than he was. She wore a loose fitting white dress that ended past her knees, a contrast against the dark night. Her shoulder length green hair was braided to the side while a necklace wrapped around twice completed her look.

 _Teal. Keisuke, they're teal._

She clutched her forehead with a free hand and suddenly lost balance. Almost by instinct, Keisuke quickly placed himself beside her with his hands on her shoulders. The lady turned her head towards him, her face clearly in pain. _Shit!_

"Hiraga-senpai?"

 _Huh!?_

Keisuke snapped his head to her, their eyes suddenly meeting once again.

 _Teal._

In an instant, he was flying across space. What propelled him, he couldn't see or feel. His vision was getting blurry, faces zooming past him. It was a kaleidoscope of colour engulfing every bit of his senses. Before he knew it, he was back in high school. He was back in his school uniform, holding a framed photo that he had sent to a contest. He was surrounded by the photography club again, their beaming faces congratulating him. His friend, Minato, looked onto the group with a small smile. Why was he imagining this? Why was he having this now? Suddenly, as if out of place, Minato pointed to a girl at his side and gave the slightest hint of a smile.

 _Teal._

"Yamagishi-san?"

Without warning, her legs gave out and she collapsed.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** _Thought this was a good place to end the chapter. As most of you are aware(or probably forgotten), Keisuke Hiraga is the senior of the main protagonist, the club president of the photography/art/music club and also the of Wheel of Fortune. The story revolves around the idea of the Wheel of Fortune in the person that the main protagonist got the arcana in the first place. I do hope that I kept you interested enough to review and to follow more of this story. Thank you for reading and I hope to see you again!_


	2. Rainy Way Back Home

**Soundtrack:** _Rainy Way Back Home - Nujabes_

* * *

 **2:Rainy Way Back Home**

Strangely, it was raining the morning after. Keisuke, dressed in a warm sweater and jeans, stood by the window of his one room apartment staring outside. Light pitter-patter turned to rhythmic rampage when thunder struck and he shivered slightly. It was now just simply crashing down. As he had learnt just an hour ago, a sudden change in the weather forecast left the City of Port Island unprepared for the torrential downpour.

The only source of warmth was the coffee in his hands. He cupped the mug tightly when he heard his phone buzz. Knowing who it was, Keisuke placed the coffee on a nearby table and walked towards the counter.

"Aye! What the hell was that last night!?" the voice screamed. Keisuke calmly placed the phone away from his ear. It was Kanji Tatsumi.

"Sorry Tatsumi-san," Keisuke waited for the man to settle down before apologizing. "Something needed immediate attention and I completely forgot about the call." Keisuke explained in detail what had transpired last night and how he had to carry an unconscious girl for a mile towards his apartment.

"Oh shit, she alright?" Kanji's rage turned to a soft voice of concern.

He looked at his bedroom door from the table, unsure of what to answer. He was too far away from the hospital at that time and his phone broke from the impact against the concrete floor. From what he had deduced last night, it seemed like it was pure exhaustion. Big bags under her eyes were present and her lips were cracked from dehydration. She obviously had a headache and her pupils were dilated. Although he couldn't be sure in this case. The girl has had complications in the past because of her health if he remembered correctly. Blood sugar? Iron deficiency? Hypertension? Maybe she was just plain drunk?

Perhaps it would have been wise to go to the hospital instead. When did he get so careless about this matter?

"I… don't know," he honestly answered.

It was the wrong answer.

"Da hell dude?! Why didn't you bring her to the damn doc in the first place?!"

Suddenly, he heard shuffling behind the bedroom door. It paused. Another shuffle. Another pause. Then, the doorknob turned slowly. Keisuke held his breath and ended the call with Kanji.

"Sorry, she's awake now."

"Hey, answer me you shitwa—"

He placed the phone down and met eyes with Fuuka Yamagishi. She wore the same outfit the night before sans the mess of a braid that was her hair. The bags under her eyes was severe, green eyes dull and unsure of what to make of the situation. He couldn't blame her. She was indeed inside a stranger's house after all. Did she even remember last night?

 _Teal._

He shook the thought of it out of his head. Giving her a tiny smile, he reached out to an apron that was hanging to the side and rolled his sleeves up.

"Care for some breakfast Yamagishi-san?"

Fuuka simply nodded.

"Good." Keisuke beamed at her. "Here, take a seat. I'll be quick!"

He worked efficiently, being used to fixing up a quick and healthy breakfast every day. In the span of a few minutes, a plate of toast and eggs was placed in front of Fuuka, shocking her with his speed. Switching to the cupboard, his long arms reached for a clear glass cup and poured orange juice. Sliding it to her side, Keisuke sat down and grabbed the coffee he was drinking previously. He looked at her and smiled.

"Protein, vitamin C and D, some carbohydrates, especially the fibre and they taste delicious!" Keisuke explained, feeling a tad proud, while taking a sip at his coffee. He figured she would need all the energy she could get from last night.

"Wha—Hiraga-senpai, thank you," Fuuka quietly thanked before grabbing the fork and started eating.

Keisuke mentally high-fived himself as her face lit up after a few bites. He stared at her eating form, observing a few things. Firstly, she was moving normally, perhaps a bit lethargically but he blamed it on the fact that she was in a stranger's house. Secondly, from what he remembered from high school, her skin was pale to begin with but her skin at the moment felt sickly. She was not in any pain whatsoever it seems.

After finishing breakfast, he grabbed the plate and placed it on the sink and turned towards her.

"So," he started, "how are you feeling?"

Fuuka smiled sadly. "I've been better, I'll be honest. I'm exhausted."

Keisuke let out a huge sigh of relief. He slowly slid down the counter before he hit the floor. She raised an eyebrow at him but he just smiled at her.

 _She was just exhausted._

"It's nice to see you again Hiraga-senpai," she greeted him, "I'm sorry our reunion was a bit dramatic at your part." A tiny bit of color was starting to return to her face.

He waved it off and stood up. "Hey, no need to worry. Here, gimme a second."

Running his finger through an array of bottles that was situated at the corner of his countertop, he pulled out a bottle and read through its contents. He glanced at her. If he was indeed diagnosing correctly, she may have a deficiency in necessary vitamins. More specifically, Vitamin B12. Perhaps iron as well. He glanced at her again, her eyes showing curiosity.

"Yamagishi-san, may I ask what have you been eating for the past few weeks?" he asked as he walked back to the table.

The girl placed a finger on her chin, seemingly thinking.

"I've been so busy with school and work that I haven't really eaten much other than chips and soda they sell at the school," she explained in a matter-of-factly tone.

Keisuke gaped at her. She was not serious, was she?

"Hours of sleep in the past week?"

"Maybe six?"

"What?!"

"You haven't changed much, Keisuke-senpai," Fuuka commented with a laugh. Her light giggles filled the spaces of silence from the battering rain. It was a relaxing sight for him and he couldn't help but smile. It was the first time they have seen each other in years.

The stream of conversation faded slowly, leaving the room in a comfortable silence. The constant rain pounded even harder, intensifying to a thunderous roar that he ran to close the curtains, praying that the glass wouldn't shatter. Fuuka sat still while Keisuke cleaned the dishes. This continued for a few minutes until he stole a glance at her and they met each other's eyes. She smiled and stood up, rolling up her sleeves. Grabbing a clean dry towel, she started drying those he finished rinsing. There was a small tinge of pink on his cheeks while they worked silently.

"It's been four years hasn't it, Senpai?"

Keisuke nodded while drying both of his hands. Four years had passed ever since his graduation from Gekkoukan and the last time he had seen his old kouhai.

"So how've you been?" she said while looking up to meet his gaze.

They were quickly absorbed into conversation. He learnt that she was in her third year of university at Port Island, studying Information Technology and was the top of the class. Impressed by her skills, Kirijo Industries, a name he hadn't heard for quite some time, hired her as a specialist in data analysis even with her busy university schedule. He whistled as Fuuka listed out her schedule and he finally understood why she had collapsed. A 24 hour shift and a week with about four hours of sleep does wear out a person if he say so himself. Three hours passed while they conversed at the table, discussing about the last four years. It was a weird experience for him, as they were not really quite close back in high school. Certainly friends! But was she really sharing this to him?

He stared at her while she explained more about her schedule, musing about the person that was in front of him now. Was this really the same Fuuka that he went to high school with? Taking a good look at her, he was reminded that the woman before him was not the same kouhai as before. Her unsure disposition back then had grown into something else, something he couldn't really name. Confident perhaps? He shook his head mindlessly. _Wait, why is she even calling me senpai now?_

"Keisuke is fine you know?" he interrupted.

"Huh…?"

"Keisuke. You can call me Keisuke," he explained with a wag of a finger, "you used to call me that back in high school right?" He grinned at her.

"Keisuke-kun?" Fuuka tested the name out and grinned back. He guessed that she liked it.

"Well," she pointed a finger at him, "what about you? What're you up to now, Keisuke-kun?"

Keisuke rubbed the back of his head to find an explanation of what he did as a living. Technically, he was a freelance photographer but the numerous and perhaps borderline obsessive client work that he received from a certain pop idol and her delinquent designer kept his client list short and exclusive. At this point, he was the personal photographer for them. He wasn't the one to complain though. They proved to be one of the best clients a photographer could ever ask for, even becoming his friends!

"I'm a photographer," he simply stated.

Fuuka raised her eyebrow at him, a questioning look on her face.

"You're not a doctor?" was her immediate response. What could he even say to her? He failed his entrance exam and fell into a pit of depression before finding work as a photographer when a pop idol scouted him out? He was stuck in a rock and a hard place as she waited for his response.

"I… uh… I had a lot of things that happened and I just found something I liked and then this happened and then that and yeah…" Keisuke rambled on. He let out a sigh. Fuuka looked at him intently, waiting for more details.

"It's a long story," he said dejectedly, hoping that the girl wouldn't prod any further. Thankfully, she didn't.

Fuuka nodded and looked at the side. "So that's why there's cameras everywhere!" she commented and stood up. Her footsteps echoed against the hard floor before stopping in front of the old film camera situated at the corner of the room.

"Where did you get this camera?" she asked with a finger on her chin, deep in thought.

Keisuke smiled and walked over towards her. His old film camera was a common conversation starter with anyone who came over. His old kouhai was no different. He explained to her how he came across it and how it started his career as a photographer, not mentioning his job as a photographer for a popular pop idol. He wouldn't brag to anyone about that.

She listened to his story intently, letting out small giggles when Keisuke told her about his struggles about non-compliant clients and the like.

"It just… looks so familiar somehow." Fuuka stared at the camera, eyes glazing over. Her fingers danced on the surface of the camera's body, glancing at Keisuke for permission to touch it. He shrugged nonchalantly. She returned to inspecting the camera, a feel of concentration and familiarity filling her eyes. Keisuke raised an eyebrow at her strange behavior.

The sky turned a darker shade of grey as noon rolled in. They migrated to the living room area where the conversations slowed once more while they listened to the weather report. According to the weather report, a freak storm was over Port Island, developing under the cover of night undetected in a rate that the specialists on the television said was otherworldly. The severity of the storm was not destructive like a typhoon but he heard that the seaside parts of the city had been evacuated for safety reasons if the rain would continue throughout the night. Keisuke sighed in relief. The apartment they were in was far away from the sea and was on high ground at least.

He stole a glance at the girl beside him. Fuuka's eyes were fixated onto the window with a peculiar sense of… something he couldn't really diagnose. Sadness? Boredom? Perhaps she was just tired from the week she had been through? Keisuke rubbed his chin, deep in thought. She did only get about 6 hours of sleep. With the week that she had been through, he couldn't blame her for being in such a state.

"Keisuke-kun, I need to go soon." Fuuka turned to Keisuke. He felt something inside of him move as she looked at him with a melancholic look that she barely hid. "I really am thankful for last night. If anyone else had found m—"

"Why're you sad?"

Keisuke's face started burning up when he realized what he had just said. Fuuka simply smiled at him before standing up.

"It's a long story as well, Keisuke-kun," she said, repeating the words he had said not long ago.

 _I guess she has things to hide as well._

Fuuka bowed deeply towards him. "Thank you for putting me under your care," she said formally then started putting on her boots, "I'll be sure to repay you one day Keisuke-kun."

"Wait, where are you going?" Keisuke asked as she started fixing her hair. She paused and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"To visit a friend." Her reply was short and courtly, sending Keisuke onto his feet to try and stop her.

"Uh…?"

"Do you have an umbrella I can borrow?"

Fuuka's voice was smooth and unwavering, not a shred of doubt or fear from the storm that was raging outside. Her hand dug inside her bag and came out with a green hat that she put on without hesitation.

"No need to bother with the umbrella. Thank you Keisuke-san. I'll be taking my leave now," she said and started walking towards the door.

"Sorry, what?"

Was she insane?! Keisuke looked out of the window, the rain pelting it ever so vigilantly. He couldn't let her do this. He ran past the retreating figure and put his hand in front of the door to deter her from passing any further.

"Sorry Yamagishi-san, but I'm gonna have to ask you stop right there," he reasoned with her while she looked at him with a confused look.

"I'm sorry?" she asked.

"It's dangerous," was his only response to the girl getting slightly irritated.

"So what!? I need to go!" Her voice increased in volume, pushing him away.

"I said stop!"

Without thinking, he grabbed her forearm and pulled her back towards him. Fuuka quickly swung around, the sudden movement causing Keisuke to lose his grip on the girl's arm.

"What gives you the right to—"

 **BOOM!**

A flash of lightning struck. Thunder resounded throughout the apartment in an instant, making both of them jump.

Then it was dark.

The soft lull of the television was replaced with silence. With the minimal amount of lighting, Keisuke's first instinct was to stumble towards Fuuka. Knuckles white from the sheer grip on herself, it was easy for him to see she was terrified. Absolutely terrified. He extended his hand and grabbed her shaking shoulders. She didn't stir, prompting Keisuke to crouch down to see her face.

"Hey, just stay until the storm is over, got that?" he cooed with a small comforting smile. How he was talking to her with such familiarity was beyond him but her teal eyes were clouded over with tears.

 _Shit! She's crying!_

"I can't!" she suddenly yelled, causing Keisuke to take a step back from her. He stared at her crying face through the dark, the foreign sound of her voice rooting him in place.

"I can't… I really can't… I need to go… I just can't…" Fuuka repeated, desperation laced in her voice. It was not like before. She was broken.

As if a force inside him swelled and told him to, Keisuke took a step closer. He didn't know what was wrong with her. Why was she sad? Why was she so adamant about going out into the storm? Why was there desperation in her voice? Why was she crying? He couldn't answer any. With a firm grip, he grabbed her shoulders and cooed at her to look at him.

"I really don't know what the hell is going on but you gotta stop this," Keisuke scolded the frail girl in front of him. She slowly looked up until brown met teal.

"No one remembers, huh?"

Her eyes were puffy from crying and he felt something inside him break.

"Let's go," he said.

"H-huh..!?"

Keisuke didn't know why he was doing what he was doing but nonetheless, he walked over to the door, put on his coat and took a set of keys from the front pocket. He looked over his shoulder to Fuuka, her eyes confused at what he was doing. She had slowly stopped crying and was now looking intently at him. His steady hand grabbed hers, a gasp coming out of her. It was surprisingly soft, a thought he suppressed while he fumbled around with his old sneakers. Keisuke smiled at her and then opened the door.

"Lead the way Yamagishi-san."

The ride was silent save for the constant buzzing of the radio and the splattering of the rain against the windshield. The streets were empty, a salary man sprinting for safety here and there. Keisuke felt the car inch slightly from the wind while stopped at a crossing and his stomach churned. Fuuka, the only other sane person to go outside in this weather, sat right beside him, unmoving and silent, only speaking when he needed to turn. An atmosphere of solitary filled the car, suffocating him.

Why was he out here?

As if on cue, a tree shook violently before a gust of wind ripped apart a branch, launching it flying. Keisuke's sweat dropped and he gripped the steering wheel.

Why the hell was he out here?

"Is it okay if we stopped at my place?" Fuuka's voice was low and muffled by the huge gusts of wind that slammed against his car. Keisuke raised an eyebrow at her in confusion, unsure of what she meant. Were they not going to her house to begin with?

"I need to grab something before I go," she said to him simply, much to his dismay. The girl was asking for trouble. Although he wasn't a doctor, safety was still his major concern. He stopped at another cross light before turning to her, mustering the most serious look his face could do.

Although modest, he had no problem putting on a brave front. It was incredibly useful for shoots whenever someone wasn't cooperating. He didn't like doing it though, only being able to channel it for a few moments before he is forced to give up. It just wasn't him.

"It's dangerous Yamagishi-san," he started, "you need to go home and stay home."

"No," Fuuka replied.

Keisuke's eyes were wide with shock when she turned to him with a look of sheer determination. Her teal eyes burnt with passion that felt foreign to him, causing him to falter. Soon enough, he admitted defeat, throwing his hands up and continued on driving down the street. This girl was not the Fuuka Yamagishi that he knew back then.

The conversation ended with that, leaving the two in silence for the rest of the ride until he was asked to pull over in front an old red brick building. It was quaint, what one would expect from a girl like her. Shrubs lined the front, complementing the weathered bricks that added a sense of home to it. The windows, lightly stained, looked intricate yet sturdy against the rain. Keisuke stared at it with a sense of endearment. This would be perfect for a photoshoot. He grabbed a notebook from his front pocket and scribbled a few notes about the location.

Keisuke then looked at Fuuka, getting ready to brave the storm outside. She looked at him, as if unsure of him. He let out a sigh and rested his head against the headrest of his seat. He knew what she was thinking.

"I won't go anywhere."

Fuuka nodded and quickly unlocked the door, a sudden gust throwing it open. She ran as fast as she her legs could take her and was inside the building in a matter of seconds.

Finally, Keisuke was alone.

"What the fuck am I doing?"

He released an exasperated sigh once more before burying himself in the thin jacket he wore. Even with the heater on, there was a certain chill in the air that he couldn't shake off. He really didn't know what he was doing out here with her. The storm showed no signs of stopping throughout the entire day and here he was, driving throughout the empty city. He shivered at the thought of the branch that was ripped apart by the wind. Hopefully, he'll stay alive today.

Keisuke found himself wondering about Fuuka. She was an enigma to begin with. That was certain. They were never close back in high school but he served as the club's president in the club that she was in. The teal-haired girl was shy and fragile the last time he remembered, a pushover even if he was to be honest. She was never the one to speak up against anything. She was a passing wave in a huge ocean, content in surviving before crashing towards the beach. Her green—no, teal—eyes, if he remembered accurately, gleamed with pain that he could only describe as serene. That was her four years ago.

The Fuuka this morning was different. Gone was the shy and fragile girl and what stood before him that morning was a confident woman with drive, in no way whatsoever similar to the pushover he knew in high school. She raised her voice at him too, remembering the moments before the lightning struck. The old Fuuka would have never done that. Hell, she was a tsunami compared to the old Fuuka.

Yet, her eyes were the same as before. The same teal eyes gleamed with suffering that he couldn't really explain.

He stared at the door that the girl went in. She was and was not the same girl as before, if that even made sense.

A few minutes passed before the door opened and Fuuka came sprinting out. She was wheezing, her hair dripping wet from the few seconds of exposure to the torrential downpour. Her previous braid was abandoned and was now in a ponytail, a few strands that were too short to be tied to the back hanging in front. In her hands was a slender brown package the size of her arm. Trying to catch her breath, she turned to Keisuke and beamed.

"I thought you left," she said in between breaths.

Keisuke shrugged. His eyes locked onto the package then turned towards her. "What's that?"

Fuuka smiled once more and patted it. "You'll see," she simply said and slumped into the seat. Keisuke pouted at her words, unsatisfied with the answer given.

"Thank you though…" she whispered so quietly that he strained to understand, "for staying and dealing with this. I'll explain later."

Keisuke shrugged again and started to drive once more. At this point in time, he couldn't have cared less about the explanation. He just wanted to be out of the storm. He took a peek towards her, only noticing now that she was wearing the same white sundress as before. A slight tinge of pink was on his cheeks throughout the ride afterwards.

The drumming of the rain against windshield and roof paired with the mellow beats of the stereo filled the silence. There wasn't much to be conversed about between the two, opting to remain quiet save for the times she would tell where to turn. He glanced at Fuuka. Her teal eyes were glazed over, deep in thought. A solemn aura flooded around her, telling Keisuke to not meddle while she was in this state. He was happy at least, the rain slowing down as they neared their destination.

"Take a left there."

He did so, maneuvering the car to an exit towards a gated area. From what he could see, it was a small quaint park, trees lining on the side of a beautiful red brick path. It was March as well so the soft yet subtle beginnings of Spring could be seen. When he looked closely, he saw the tiny budding sprouts on the cherry blossom tree branches. A low whistle came out of him, imagining what the scene would be when the cherry blossoms bloomed. Picture perfect if he says so himself. He pulled the car up onto an empty parking space. Quickly grabbing his notebook again, he scribbled a few lines for next time he was around the area. There was an upcoming Spring pin up book of course and this would be a perfect location for that.

Fuuka opened the door the moment Keisuke shifted the gear to parking and started running.

"Hey! At least bring your jacket! You're gonna get soaked…" Keisuke's voice trailed off as he noticed the absence of the rhythmic pitter patter.

The rain stopped.

"Huh…" He zipped up his light jacket and got out of the car. Taking a few steps, he released a tired sigh as he listened to the gravel underneath his feet. Only then did he realize something was wrong.

Fuuka Yamagishi was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** _The chapter was about to be 8000+ words so I decided to cut it off here. What I'm trying to get at here is that Keisuke spends a lot of time just thinking. A lot of narrative and action and barely any dialogue. It's quite hard just trying to develop a character from such a small sample from him in game. Fuuka as well has been challenging. We all know that she's now this confident, gentle woman ever since she got her ultimate Persona and trust me, I have not forgotten about that. Saving those juicy moments later on!_

 _Midterms are once again upon us(bless your soul if you're a university student) so I wish you all the best of luck! I will try to get the third chapter out before the end of this month but we will see! If you have any suggestion/concerns/comments/random things that you just want to say, don't hesitate to click that review button and let me know! Thank you for those that favourited and followed this story! I hope I won't disappoint you!_


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